


A Very Dallas Christmas

by danajeanne



Category: White Collar
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 04:39:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5403317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danajeanne/pseuds/danajeanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal wishes....or did he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Dallas Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elrhiarhodan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrhiarhodan/gifts).



> Written for LJ's WhiteCollarH/C Advent. Um, H/C. Yeah, let's say it's an emotional H/C. Sort of. Thanks to Sherylyn for the fast beta!

A Very Dallas Christmas

By: Danajeanne

 

“It’s a mix-up, Peter.  If they made a mistake once, then this is probably a second one.” Neal stared in dumb amazement at the paper in his hand.

Peter ran his fingers through his hair—what he had left after two years of Neal at his side. “The first one was the error, Neal.  This one isn’t.”

Neal tossed the paper onto his kitchen table and walked over to stare at the view outside his huge windows. The city twinkled with red and green Christmas lights. “It is.”

“Not.”

“Is.”

“N...damn it, Neal.”

“If it’s not a mistake, Peter,” Neal turned around and glared at his partner, “then exactly how did it happen?”

Peter just looked at him.

“Not what I meant, and you know it.  When—”

“It was an experiment, put together by the government—”

“Mozzie’s gonna love this,” Neal muttered.

“—when I was 14.  My parents didn’t tell me until a few years ago, everything had been shut down for years; there was nothing left, no paperwork, no…”

“No sperm?” Neal said snidely. “All the eggs had hatched into little chicks?”

“It’s not my fault, Neal,” said Peter quietly.

“Not…no, it’s not your fault.  I apologize.” Neal walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. “What excuse did your parents have for allowing you to donate your sperm to this…this…what was it for?”

“They were trying to increase intelligence.  My parents received money for my education.”

“Intelligence? My mother wasn’t exactly a genius.”

“No, they wanted to take a person with a high I.Q. and one with an average I.Q. and see if the result was a higher than average intelligence or not.”

“And?” Neal asked.

Peter waved a hand in his direction.

“Right,” Neal grumbled. “I still find this difficult to believe.  And if nothing was left, how did this DNA test suddenly appear?”

“That _was_ a mistake,” Peter replied.  “They had the blood from my shirt, instead of Big Billy’s shirt, so that my name came up in the search with yours popping up right after it.”

“What will this do to my deal?”

“I don’t know,” Peter admitted. “I’ll need to talk to Hughes.”

“I wish…I wish…I don’t know what I wish, but I wish anything but THIS!” Neal scrunched up the paper and tossed it at Peter.

A brilliant white light filled Neal’s apartment, followed by an earsplitting bout of thunder.  

Then…

“Damn it, Neal,” Peter meowed.

 “You’re bigger than me,” Neal mewed.

“I’m a CAT!” Peter spat.

“So am I.” Neal examined a miniscule paw, giving it an experimental lick.

“You’re a kitten, Neal, and a puny one at that.”  Peter sat back on his haunches, superior. “Don’t lick your paw; you don’t know where it’s been.”

Neal bared tiny teeth. “Don’t read anything paternal into this.”

“I’m a cat, and you’re a kitten.  What does that tell you?”

“That I’m having a really bad dream.”  Neal teetered on his four stubby legs as he attempted to remove himself from Peter’s space.  He immediately landed chin first on the floor, his legs splayed. “Damn.”

Peter trotted over, grabbed a mouthful of Neal’s neck fur and carried him over to the bed. Cocking his head upwards, Neal hissed, “Don’t even think about it, Peter.  Put me down.”

Peter opened his mouth and Neal dropped to the ground, landing on his feet. “What? You expected me to land on my head?  Please.”

Taking a deep breath, Peter gathered his muscles and leaped to the top of the bed.  He turned around and gazed down at Neal pompously.

Not to be outdone, Neal immediately wiggled his butt, tail waving in the air – and promptly found himself with a face full of under-the-bed dust bunnies.  June really needed a better maid.

With a whoosh, something landed on the floor behind him.  A large thud, and there was Peter atop a pillow staring under the bed at him.  Neal nonchalantly licked his paw.

“Don’t lick your paw.”

Neal hissed.  Sort of.

Peter Did Not Laugh.  Instead he meowed quietly, “It’s nice and soft up here and closer than the top of the bed.”

“This is fine.” Neal curled up amongst the dust bunnies and tried to look clean and comfortable.

Peter sighed and jumped down from the pillow.  June had excellent pillows.  Once again grabbing a mouthful of Neal’s neck fur, he dragged the loudly protesting kitten to the top of the soft, fluffy pillow.

Avoiding tiny but sharp claws Peter placed his paw on Neal’s back until his partner settled down, breathing heavily and staring up with watery blue eyes.

“I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I, Neal, but since we don’t know why or how this happened, there’s not much we can do at the moment.”

An unhappy ‘mew’ was all he heard as Neal curled up into a dejected, tiny ball of black fur.  Sighing, Peter curled himself around Neal, absently licking dust from the top of his soft head.   He wished… No, he didn’t wish anything, no wishes, none.  That’s what got them into this mess in the first place.  He was simply going to lie here, next to his now furry partner, and wait to see what happened.

****** 

“What time is El expecting us?” Neal hollered from the bathroom. “Peter?”  He padded over to the bed, his wet feet leaving damp prints on the wood floor.  Neal toweled his hair.  “Take your shower so we can get going. I left enough hot water.” 

The Sorry End


End file.
